


A Fight not worth Fighting

by HiAjay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:24:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why the hell should I!” Stiles shouted, “Huh? Explain to me why I should stay away!”<br/>“Stiles stop arguing with me!” Derek growled in response.<br/>“I want a reason! Give me one god damned reason Derek!” Stiles wiggled out of Derek’s grip. Shoving his hands at the large mans chest. “You always do this! Always!”<br/>“I don’t always do anything, Stiles!”<br/>“Liar! You’re a liar!” Stiles tossed his arms in the air as he turns his back to Derek.<br/>“Don’t you walk away from me!” Derek shouts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fight not worth Fighting

It was a yelling contest, and so far, neither of them were winning. Or even close for that matter.  Stiles had his hands pressed and pushing against Derek’s chest, as Derek’s hands were clutched at stiles arms. Old married couple would be the understatement of their relationship. Derek’s heart was pounding just as loudly as Stiles’ own heart.

 

How the hell did he let this pale, wide eyed teen get under his skin like this? There wasn’t a trigger, there wasn’t a warning. Their fights always started the same way; Derek didn’t want to tell Stiles what his heart did every time his nose caught the teens scent, and Stiles didn’t want to tell Derek that he was an attractive ignorant caveman.

 

There was no doubt. Not to the pack, at least.  Stiles and Derek were forever, and they mean _forever_ engrossed with each other.

 

“Why the hell should I!” Stiles shouted, “Huh? Explain to me why I should stay away!”

 

“Stiles stop arguing with me!” Derek growled in response.

 

“I want a reason! Give me one god damned reason Derek!” Stiles wiggled out of Derek’s grip. Shoving his hands at the large mans chest. “You always do this! Always!”

 

“I don’t _always_ do anything, Stiles!”

 

“Liar! You’re a liar!” Stiles tossed his arms in the air as he turns his back to Derek.

 

“Don’t you walk away from me!” Derek shouts, Stiles whips around on his heels and glared up at Derek.

 

“Just once, just once Derek, I want you to fuckin’ _trust_ me,” Stiles hisses. Derek swallows hard and takes in the actual meaning to Stiles words. Derek doesn’t want to be to blame, he knows he is, but he doesn’t want what the truth offers.

 

“How am I supposed to trust you when you never listen to me?” Derek extends his arms then drops them to his side angrily. Derek knows his fishing, he wants Stiles hands on him, and he wants the feeling of the soft pale skin on his. He’s greedy when it comes to Stiles; hates it when he plays with Scott, hates it when he coddles Isaac, despises it when he’s around Lydia.

 

Derek doesn’t care about his pack when he’s around Stiles; Derek’s thoughts were never his in the first place.

 

“Really? Really? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Derek when the hell did I _ever_ listen to you?” Stiles sighed loudly, “I’m not one of your beta’s, nor will I be!” Stiles storms up the spiral stair case

 

“Where are you going?” Derek asked as he turned his back.

 

“I need a shower,” Stiles huffed, humorless. Derek folded his arms across his chest. He’s been selfish, he knows it. Derek has the right to be, he’s lost everything, and gained it all back. He had a right to be selfish if he god damned well pleased. Stiles, Stiles was his weakness, and the overall fact was clear with each betrayal he forced on the teen.

 

Their fights were serious, but they never lasted long, not even the hours that they spend fighting. That time will never amount to the moments after, the moments where Stiles pouts his bottom lip and slouches on the couch. That same moment Derek takes and caters to the teen. Kisses him, holds him, scents him, does what he’d never do with anyone else.

 

It was their life now; Beacon Hills was hardly the hell hole they used to know.

 

“Instead of _someone I used to know,_ it’s _the hell hole I used to know,_ ” Stiles joked. Derek, he felt as if he didn’t have a choice when it came to Stiles. He was trapped, but he was free. Nothing made sense and Stiles was infuriating.

 

“Come here,” Derek called his voice deep and steady as he heard Stiles try to quietly make his way down the steps.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Stiles says flatly.

 

“I don’t care,” Derek responsed, Stiles makes his way dragging his feet as he stopped in front of Derek. Stiles was fiddling with his fingers, staring down at them like Derek wasn’t even there to notice. Derek sighed heavily and reached for Stiles, his finger tips touching the soft fabric of a loose Henley.  Stiles flinched at the sight of his hand. Derek doesn’t falter; he continues to feel the fabric and the cool warmth that followed.

 

“I don’t care, Stiles,” Derek repeats himself. Stiles continues to stare holes at his fiddling fingers. Derek reaches his free hand to the opposite side and pulls Stiles into him, in which Stiles protests.

 

“No, I don- No, I-” Stiles is pushing at Derek’s arms and chest, not really trying to get away, just pushing needlessly.  “I don’t—Derek I d-”

 

Derek’s lips on his forehead, gently wording nothings on to the teen’s forehead; they weren’t sweet, they were just nothings. Nothings that only made sense if you were Stiles

 

“I could care less what you want,” Derek holds back a growl, though he could feel the rumble in his chest, sure that Stiles could feel it too.

 

“You care,” Stiles whispers

 

“More than I care to admit,” Derek whispers back.

 

“Stop it,”

 

“Stop what?”

 

Stiles arms stopped trying to refuse Derek’s hold. Derek held him lightly in his arms. Stiles legs in-between his own as he leaned on tabled but the stair case; Stiles liked being held this way.

 

“I hate you,” Stiles whimpers into Derek’s exposed collar bone.

 

“I know,” is all Derek can bring himself to say. Stiles never really means it when he says it. Derek remembers the look on Stiles face when he did mean it. It was a look that was scorched into his memory, a moment that he hoped he’d forget.

 

“Let me-”

 

“No,” Derek growled, his lips gracing over Stiles forehead, Stiles hands found their place on Derek’s hip bones, slightly pushing on them to support himself. Derek was holding onto whatever he could, though he wouldn’t _ever_ let Stiles know just how much the teen affected him.

 

Derek was scared. He as scared he’d lose what he’s been secretly hoping to find for years. Even though he found it in a 17 year old boy; Derek could care less. He had what he wanted, what he needed. Stiles was beneath the weight of his arms, Stiles heart was the only sound he could possibly hear. His scent was all he wanted to smell. What has Derek been dragged down to?

 

“Derek,”

 

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek gave a low growl.

 

“Never stop fighting with me,” Stiles finally relaxed his body against Derek’s and let his head rest comfortably on Derek’s shoulder; The tip of his nose brushing against Derek’s neck.

 

“I couldn’t even if I tried,” Derek replied in a whisper. Stiles huffed with a smile.

 

“You’re an awful werewolf,”

 

“You’re an awful person,”

 

“Harsh. Real harsh, Derek.”

 

“You love me either way,”

 

“Yeah . . . I guess I do,”


End file.
